The Seasons of Derbyshire
by thevinylfreak
Summary: Set first sixteen years and then twenty after P&P, the Darcys have a happy family of six children. Four young suitors come to court the four Darcy girls, and things take a turn for the worst when two of them, plus Mr. Darcy, are accused of the murder of Mr. Wickham. *NOTHING LIKE 'DEATH COMES TO PEMBERLEY!*
1. Chapter 1

It was a cold, but gorgeous winter day in Derbyshire, and the Darcys could not help but enjoy a long walk along the snow-covered roads. Mr. Darcy led his wife through the ankle-deep snow, happy to be of her assistance. Mrs. Darcy was never one to really accept his aid, so when she needed it, Mr. Darcy was only too happy to oblige.

Everything around the young - or rather somewhat young - couple was white and blanketed in a thick layer of snow. When the wind picked up, a loose layer of snow would take air and surround them in floating white powdery crystals. That was what it was like on the morning of a chilly January evening in 1828, sixteen years after the Darcys were first married. The young couple had a family of four daughters, one son and another child on the way, of which Mr. Darcy was unaware of. He smiled at his darling wife and leaned over to kiss her, but she turned her head and laughed as his lips met her cheek.

"Lizzie, my darling, I require a kiss," said Mr. Darcy, stopping.

"But Mr. Darcy, what if someone were to see us? It is quite improper!" said Mrs. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy chuckled.

"My dearest, everyone in Derbyshire knows us to be the most happy and in love couple in all of the country. Mr. and Mrs. Eccleston compliment us on our highly-expressed love and Miss Rochester dreams of a man for her own to give her what we have. My darling, you have nothing to fear. No one shall think us improper, now I shall not move until you bestow a kiss upon my lips," said Mr. Darcy stubbornly, and it was Mrs. Darcy's turn to laugh.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam... My dearest Fitzwilliam, I cannot deny you anything at all with you always putting it that way," she said, and she bestowed on her husband's lips his desired kiss. The two of them continued home, where they were greeted by their youngest daughters, ten-year-old Sarah and eight-year-old Mirabella.

"Mama! Papa! Sarah won't let me play with her doll!" Mirabella cried as her father lifted her into his arms to kiss her dark brown curls.

"Bella, my dearest one, did you not break Sarah's doll the last time?" asked Mr. Darcy to his youngest daughter.

"She did, Papa!" cried Sarah. Mirabella stuck out her tongue at her sister and Elizabeth could not help but to laugh at her youngest daughters, for they so much reminded her of her own youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia.

"Well, then allow me to make a decision. I have heard the case of _Mirabella vs. Sarah_ and have come to a decision. The doll belongs to Sarah and was a gift from her aunt, Mrs. Bingley. It is up to Sarah who plays with her doll, not Mirabella," said Mr. Darcy, setting a pouting Mirabella down on her feet and kissing her head. "Now run along, you two! Why don't you play dolls together?"

"No!" Mirabella cried, and she ran off pouting.

"I will go and practice the pianoforte like a lady," said Sarah, curtsying to her father. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy returned a curtsy and a bow, respectively, and Sarah went on her way.

"She might remind you of your youngest sisters, my Lizzie, but she most certainly reminds me of Georgiana, in some aspect," said Mr. Darcy, escorting his wife upstairs to enter the parlor. They had had this conversation numerous times before and Mr. Darcy knew exactly what his wife had been thinking.

"I always thought it was Aveline that reminded you of Georgiana," said Elizabeth, taking her husband's hand instead of his arm.

"Aveline indeed. She has such a docile and taciturn nature like her aunt and Mrs. Bingley," said Mr. Darcy.

"I received a letter from Mrs. Fairfax this morning. She has informed me that her own son takes much after his uncle."

"Yes, Georgiana has mentioned that John reminds her of me." Georgiana Darcy, Mr. Darcy's only biological sister, had fallen in love with and married a young man named George Fairfax a couple of years into the Darcys' own marriage. The two of them had three sons named John, Jasper and Maxwell and Mrs. Fairfax was due to have another child within a few weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy entered the parlor, where Sarah was sitting on the piano bench with her elder sister, Aveline, turning the pages.

"Oh, Ava, please do let me play!" cried little Sarah in earnest.

"Sarah, I must practice!" Aveline exclaimed.

"Ava, you have been playing for quite a while. I believe that it is only fair for Sarah to have a turn," said the eldest Darcy girl, Rosalind. Rosalind had been sitting on the sofa with a book of poetry. Of all of the Darcy children, Rosalind was mostly like her father. She had his talent of breaking up arguments between her younger sisters, she possessed his love of reading and she possessed his high intelligence. She had barely been taught by the family governess, Miss Taylor, as she had been so interested in learning on her own time. Anything that Miss Taylor had attempted to teach her and her younger sister, Aveline, had already been learned by Rosalind on her own time. Not only was Rosalind Darcy like her father mentally, but she bore a strong resemblance to him physically. She possessed his light blue eyes and dark brown hair, as well as the shape of his face. The servants had often said to her over the years that if Mr. Darcy had been born a female, then he would look exactly as Rosalind did. Rosalind was born eight months and three weeks after the Darcys were married and was presently fifteen years of age.

Aveline, on the other hand, bore a strong resemblance to her two aunts, Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Fairfax. Like them, she possessed light blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes, but Elizabeth suggested that Aveline's blue eyes came from her father. Aveline was also rather docile in nature, always calm and at peace. She truly never found herself passionate about anything in anger and never raised her voice in anger. Like Mrs. Bingley, she was sensible, and like Mrs. Fairfax, she could be easily persuaded to accept anything given to her. Aveline was currently fourteen years of age, having been born about a year after her eldest sister.

Sarah Darcy possessed her mother's brown curly locks and brown earthly eyes. She possessed some of her mother's sense, but none of her wit. All of that could also be found in her eldest sister. Sarah had a certain love of music and, for a girl of ten, could play the pianoforte, the violin and the harp rather well. She could also sing, which was a rare talent in Derbyshire, for the last talented singer in the country had been a young woman named Emily Bailey, who had lived and died between 1779 and 1810. Sarah was also rather reminiscent of Mrs. Catherine Wilkes, Elizabeth's younger sister. Mrs. Wilkes had been silly in her youth, but once Mrs. Wickham was removed from her life, she gained sense and matured. Mrs. Wilkes became an accomplished artist, a talent young Sarah also possessed.

Mirabella Darcy was every bit like her aunt, Mrs. Wickham, but still had quite more sense than Mrs. Wickham ever had. Like her eldest sister, Mirabella possessed her father's appearance, however, she had her mother's eyes and her mother's fiery spirit. While Mirabella had little wit, she did not enjoy being trifled with, and she had always been a challenge for Miss Taylor and the other servants. She always chose to run around with the boys of the neighborhood and her young cousin, Will Bingley, who was eleven.

The only Darcy son, as of 1828, was Fitzwilliam Darcy IV, called William. Young Fitzwilliam Darcy, aged three, was the fourth of the Fitzwilliam Darcys, the first being Mr. Darcy's grandfather, born and dead between 1728 and 1789, who was then succeeded by Mr. Darcy's father, born and dead between 1752 and 1808, who was then succeeded by Mr. Darcy himself, born in 1784. Young William Darcy was a rather rambunctious toddler, often running around and hiding whenever he was called. He very much adored his eldest sister and his father and he bore a strong resemblance to his father as well.

Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had quite the passel of children as well. The first was Joshua Bingley, born around the same time as Miss Rosalind Darcy. Joshua Bingley and Rosalind Darcy found themselves to be rather close, and it was thought by all of Derbyshire that the two would soon be wed within the next few years. Joshua Bingley was every bit like his father, but quite as docile as his mother. The second of the Bingley children was Lucy Bingley, born around six months after Miss Aveline Darcy. Lucy was much like her mother, though like her father physically, and found herself to be very close to her cousin Aveline. The third was the troublesome Fitzwilliam Bingley, named after his uncle. Mr. Darcy continuously joked with Mr. Bingley that young Fitzwilliam Bingley, called Will, was much like himself when he was his age (Mr. Darcy often recalled memories of himself as a child locking his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, in various rooms, leaping out of trees, teasing his cousin's sister, Arabella, before her untimely death at the age of eighteen and numerous other antics). The fourth of the Bingley children was Abigail Bingley, aged nine, who barely ever spoke a word. She rarely found herself with company and took to her bedchamber, worrying her parents that she would end up a spinster. The fifth was five-year-old Jennie Bingley, who also bore a strong resemblance to her father both physically and personality-wise. She adored spending time with her uncle, Mr. Darcy, whenever he had visited and would often tell him stories that she had fabricated in her head. Mr. Darcy often concluded that young Jennie would make an excellent author in her future. The seventh (and final) Bingley child was Philomena Bingley, a beautiful six-month-old adored by her father to tears.

Elizabeth's younger sister, Mary, found herself wed to a wealthy musician by the name of Ulysses Powell. Their four children, Ulysses, Eldon, Thaddeus and Theodosia, were also rather accomplished musicians and the family always entertained with their musical talents. Mr. Powell often performed duets with Mrs. Powell on the pianoforte, while young Ulysses and Eldon played their trumpets, Thaddeus played the violin and Theodosia played the harp. Elizabeth loved inviting the Powells just to hear their musical harmonies.

Elizabeth's even younger sister, Mrs. Wilkes, married a very accomplished gentleman from Scotland. Together, they had three beautiful daughters named Evangeline, Genevieve and Melody who, like their mother, were very accomplished artists. Mrs. Wilkes took ill not too long after young Miss Melody Wilkes's birth and had been waiting ever since to try for a son for Mr. Wilkes, and as Miss Melody turned six, Mrs. Wilkes could hope to accomplish that wish.

The youngest Bennet sister, Mrs. Lydia Wickham, did not marry an accomplished man. In fact, she married a man who could scarcely keep dinner on the table for his family of nine, including Mrs. Wickham. The young couple's children, Christopher, Saint John, Maxine, Elvira, Phoebe, Silas, Rufus and Flora, were also rather troublesome, and Mr. Wickham did nothing to aid Mrs. Wickham in raising them properly. Mr. Darcy made the offer to send the Wickham children to school, but Mrs. Wickham, having gained some sense, wished to tackle the mess that she had gotten herself into on her own, but would consider his offer.

At present, Mr. Darcy entered the drawing room with Mrs. Darcy on his arm to see his three eldest daughters already in the parlor, two at the pianoforte and one on the sofa, a book in hand. Rosalind settled the argument between Aveline and Sarah and Aveline joined Rosalind on the sofa with a book, none of the sisters having noticed their parents' entrance. Mr. Darcy let out a cough, which worried Mrs. Darcy and startled the three Darcy girls, and all stood to greet their parents.

"I insist, Mrs. Darcy, that I am quite all right," said Mr. Darcy, capturing his wife's hand in his and pressing his lips to it.

"Girls, your father is at it again," said Elizabeth with a laugh.

"Oh, Papa, if you are ill, you must rest!" Aveline exclaimed with a smile.

"Ava, my dear, I insist that I am quite all right and your mother is simply imagining things. She wishes to bed me so that she can treat me like a child," said Mr. Darcy in a joking manner, and Elizabeth only laughed and kissed her husband's cheek.

"I only wish for my dearest Fitzwilliam to be well," she said.

"And your dearest Fitzwilliam will be well if he joins his two lovely daughters on the sofa to read," said Mr. Darcy, and he joined Rosalind and Aveline on the sofa. "I must ask what books you two have chosen?"

"I have chosen _Ivanhoe_," said Rosalind, "and I believe Ava to have chosen _Maid Marian_?"

"Incorrect, dear sister, for I have chosen _Peveril of the Peak_," said Aveline.

"Ah, yes," said Mr. Darcy. "_Peveril of the Peak_. You know, the two gentlemen in the novel possess land in Derbyshire."

"How coincidental of me to have chosen the book!" exclaimed Aveline.

"I very much enjoyed it," said Rosalind. "Sir Geoffrey Peveril and Major Ralph Bridgenorth are characters I shall not forget. The history of events occurring in their time are much interesting."

"And what might that be? I have not read this," said Aveline.

"The English Civil War, of course! It involved Mr. Cromwell and the Stuart family when they possessed the English crown instead of our own King George IV," said Rosalind.

"Very good of you, Rosalind. I am highly impressed with your intelligence," said Mr. Darcy proudly.

"Why, thank you, Papa," said Rosalind with a smile. "Ava, I dare say that I believe you will enjoy that book as I have."

"Well, I most certainly indeed hope that I do. Orville Barnesly gave it to me to borrow," said Aveline.

"Orville Barnesly? Why, Ava, is he that young boy you are always speaking with in town?" asked Rosalind, and Aveline blushed.

"Yes... Yes, he is," she said.

"Young Mr. Barnesly shall grow into a fine young man, but he shall not tempt me to give my consent if he wishes to ask for my daughter's hand if he does not stop running around with those other young ladies," said Mr. Darcy.

"Oh, Papa!" exclaimed Rosalind.

"I shall not give him my consent if he does not stop, Rosalind, and that is my final decision," said Mr. Darcy stubbornly, and Rosalind sighed.

"Ava is only fourteen and Mr. Barnesly is sixteen. I do not see an engagement in the near future, Papa. Perhaps Mr. Barnesly will clean up his act in time," she said.

"I shall hope," said Mr. Darcy, and he turned to his wife. "Lizzie, my dearest one, I believe we shall find ourselves losing our daughter to this Mr. Barnesly."

"Oh, Papa!" Aveline exclaimed, and she slammed her book shut. "Mr. Barnesly is engaged to his cousin, Miss Adams. It is what his sister told me and I shall not trespass on his affairs. I am going to read my book in my bedchamber." She stood and left the parlor.

"Papa, have you not chased Ava out enough?" asked Rosalind.

"Clearly not, if her heart is still set on Mr. Barnesly. He is not good for my daughter," said Mr. Darcy, and Rosalind let out a sigh.

"Mama, I shall leave you to settle Papa's mind," she said, and she stood and followed her sister out of the parlor. Elizabeth sat beside her husband on the sofa.

"You must really fear losing our daughters to the young men in town," she said to him as he took her hands in his and kissed them.

"They are growing far too quickly and I am not fond of it. I am sure your father was the same, bless his soul," said Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet had passed away a couple of years before, and before Mr. Collins could turn out Mrs. Bennet, she died in her bed, perhaps of the shock or even, dare it be said, heartbreak.

"Perhaps for me or for Jane, but not Mary, Kitty or Lydia," said Elizabeth. "You were almost the reason Georgiana did not marry Mr. Fairfax, Fitzwilliam."

"Please, I beg you not to remind me," said Mr. Darcy, blushing at the horrid memory of the day Mr. Fairfax entered his library to ask for Georgiana's hand.

"All right, then I shall inform you of other things that must be said," said Elizabeth, her eyes meeting her husband's. "Fitzwilliam, I have news for you that I believe you shall be quite happy to hear."

"Did Georgiana have her child yet?" asked Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth giggled.

"No, my dearest, but someone else you know very well is to become a father very soon."

"Bingley? I thought he said he was finished after young Philomena!"

"No, sir, not Mr. Bingley."

"Mr. Rochester? I thought his wife was deceased!"

"No! Not Mr. Rochester and no, his wife is not deceased. She is very ill, but not yet deceased. It is someone much closer to you."

"My solicitor?"

"No! You, Fitzwilliam! We are to have a child!"

"We are?" Mr. Darcy's eyes lit up, and he jumped up, lifted his wife off of her feet and pressed numerous kisses to her cheeks. "My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, we are to be parents once again!"

"I am to have another brother or sister?" asked little Sarah, whose presence had been forgotten. "Oh, Mama, can I tell Mirabella?"

"Of course you may, dearest!" Elizabeth exclaimed happily, and little Sarah ran off as Mr. Darcy pressed his lips to his wife's.

"My Lizzie, I am thrilled! But do you not think us a bit too old for another? I am nearly five and forty and you nearly eight and thirty!" he said, a concerned expression covering his face.

"If God intended for me to be nearly eight and thirty for this child to be born, than I shall be nearly eight and thirty for this child's birth," said Elizabeth. "Now, I must write to my sisters and inform them of the news!" She bestowed one final kiss on her husband's lips and rushed out excitedly, leaving Mr. Darcy both excited and quite concerned for the love of his life.

* * *

Mr. Darcy had very little to be concerned about, as Mrs. Darcy delivered the child safely at the age of eight and thirty. The child came rather early and was thought not to survive the night, but fortunately, the child survived. Elizabeth had borne another son, of which the Darcys had named Edward, and they looked forward to raising yet another son in a home filled with girls growing quickly into young women.


	2. Chapter 2

Young Edward, born three weeks too early, remained small for the next four years of his life. He grew ill rather quickly and concerned his parents whenever he had a cough, and he was rather shy around his siblings. He barely even allowed the family nurse to tend to him when he felt ill. On top of that, all four Darcy girls were out in society and Mr. Darcy was not too fond of the idea. He often frightened off suitors by appearing rather threatening, which resulted in his wife to lecture him and sleep in her own bedchamber as opposed to his with him.

Young Mr. Barnesly, however, was never frightened off by Mr. Darcy and he gave nineteen-year-old Aveline hope. She was happy to hear when Mr. Barnesly had called and had been speaking to her father in the library. She wondered if that day would be the day that Mr. Barnesly proposed, but when she was called into Mr. Darcy's library, she found herself disappointed that Mr. Barnesly had not asked for her hand. Usually, he asked to take Miss Darcy on a walk, but would of course be escorted by Miss Sarah or Miss Mirabella and sometimes even the elder Miss Darcy. This time, however, Mr. Darcy wished to accompany them with his wife, and Mr. Barnesly's flushed face suggested that Mr. Darcy had ruined his hopes of proposing. Miss Aveline sighed and asked to speak with her father alone.

"Papa, must you follow us everywhere we go?" she asked her father, who was nearing fifty.

"Aveline, you are my daughter and it is my wish that you remain safe and uncompromised," said Mr. Darcy.

"Perhaps Mr. Barnesly wished to propose!"

"He did not make this proposal to me. He must ask for my hand."

"And what did you do when you asked for Mama's? Did you propose first or did you ask for her father's consent first?"

"That is not a part of this discussion."

"Did you not first propose and she declined? Did you not then propose again and then ask for grandfather's consent?"

"Aveline, this discussion is over. Come, we must fetch your mother."

"I do not wish to go if you are to accompany me."

"Ava, I am only protecting you."

"From what? Marriage?"

"From a man who is seeking only your dowry and not your heart!"

"He is not seeking my dowry!"

"And are you certain of this?" Aveline opened her mouth to respond but indeed was not certain of it. "Exactly. If you wish to take this walk with Mr. Barnesly, then I shall accompany you with your mother. If you do not wish me to accompany you, than you shall not go on this walk."

"And why can't Sarah or Mirabella or Rosalind come?"

"Sarah is practicing on the pianoforte and Mirabella is visiting the Rochesters."

"And Rosalind?"

"I believe that she is on a walk with your cousin, Mr. Bingley."

"And why is she not accompanied?"

"We are to expect a proposal any day now." That was the final straw for Aveline, and she stormed out of her father's library and straight to her bedchamber, slamming the door behind her. She was angry with her father for allowing Rosalind to go for a walk unaccompanied, but not her. It was thought by all that Mr. Darcy favored Rosalind, and it seems now that he did indeed. Why else would he allow Rosalind to walk with a man unaccompanied? Then again, Mr. Bingley was the eldest son of her father's most trusted friend... Aveline pondered it no longer and chose a book from the bookshelf in her bedchamber to read.

* * *

Rosalind and young Mr. Joshua Bingley were walking along the road on their return to Pemberley. Both were silent, admiring the warm summer scene around them, and Joshua Bingley was not escorting Miss Rosalind. Joshua wondered in silence why Mr. Darcy allowed them to walk alone, while Miss Rosalind knew the reason why. She was not sure, however, if Joshua would be upset by such a reason.

"Miss Rosalind, it is a fine day today, is it not?" said Joshua, his eyes to the sky.

"Yes, I agree, though it is quite warm," said Rosalind.

"Keep your parasol high, for you do not want freckles," said Joshua, and Rosalind let out a laugh.

"Who are you? My governess, Miss Taylor?" she asked, and the two cousins laughed together.

"You know young gentleman prefer the looks of pristine and alabaster skin on a lady," said Joshua, and Rosalind blushed a bit.

"Is that what you prefer, sir?"

"Me? Heavens to God, I couldn't care less for such silliness. If my wife has freckles, then I am not to judge her."

"You will find many young girls in the country willing to take off their bonnets and lower their parasols just to satisfy your desires, Joshua Bingley." Joshua chuckled.

"Yes, perhaps they will, those silly country girls..." They continued on in silence. "Tell me, Miss Rosalind, what do you think of a man in love with another man?" Rosalind stopped and eyed her cousin with a wide gaze. "Oh, forgive me. Not me, my dear cousin. A very close friend of mine feels as such with a childhood friend of his and I would like to hear your opinion before I give mine. I trust your opinion more than I trust your own."

"Joshua, I am not your mind. You ought to make your own decisions."

"Yes, but please give me yours. I must hear it."

"Well..." Before Rosalind could speak, they were greeted by a local man in town, Mr. Edmund. He ran the bakery and had had the Bingley and Darcy children frequent his store often in their youth.

"Good morning Miss Darcy, Mr. Bingley!" said Mr. Edmund cheerfully with a bow.

"Good morning, Mr. Edmund," said Miss Rosalind with a curtsy. Joshua followed with a bow.

"Mr. Bingley, it is quite wonderful to see you in town again!" said Mr. Edmund to Joshua.

"Yes, my father has rented out Longmead down the road from Pemberley for the summer," said Joshua.

"Excellent! I shall have to bring one of my cakes by that I know your father enjoys! Miss Darcy, I must ask if I may take your escort with me. I require some aid in carrying some crates into my bakery," said Mr. Edmund.

"Oh, most certainly. I must be getting home," said Rosalind. "Mr. Bingley, are we to expect you and your family for dinner?"

"Most certainly, Miss Darcy," said Joshua, and he kissed her hand and gave her a bow, Miss Rosalind returning it with a curtsy, and followed Mr. Edmund back to town. Miss Rosalind returned to Pemberley, where she was greeted by her father with an eager look on his face.

"How was your walk, Rosalind?" he asked his eldest daughter.

"Oh, you are so tricky, Papa! I knew you would allow me to go unaccompanied!" said Rosalind.

"You know me most well, my dearest. Did Mr. Bingley have anything to say or ask?" asked Mr. Darcy as he escorted his daughter to the parlor.

"He is aiding Mr. Edmund, the baker," said Rosalind. "I know how disappointed you are that he did not propose."

"Why, how improper of you to say such a thing!"

"Oh, but it is quite true, Papa. Mr. Bingley has no interest in me, dare I say. I know how everyone wishes for there to be a Darcy-Bingley union, but there shall not be. Young Mr. Bingley has his eyes set on another, it is rumored."

"Is the young lady one of your sisters?"

"It is a Miss Apsley."

"Miss Apsley? Why, she is not handsome in any way! Not even close to your looks!"

"Papa! You are sounding much like grandmother!" Rosalind could not help but laugh at her father's matchmaking ways. "You must be so bored as to promote a union so much!"

"Your mother runs Pemberley, not I, and she will not accept my aid. I shall not deny that I am quite bored."

"It seems that you and Mama have changed roles. It should be she who worries over our marriages, not you!"

"I must change that immediately. I am not suited to be a matchmaker."

"No, I daresay that it is not becoming on you." Mr. Darcy and his eldest daughter entered the parlor, where Mrs. Darcy was sitting reading a book with Mirabella pouting by the window.

"Mirabella, I thought you were visiting the Rochesters?" said Mr. Darcy as Rosalind let go of his arm.

"I had forgotten that they are out of the country," said fifteen-year-old Mirabella. "They have taken Mr. Rochester with them."

"Oh, Bella, Mr. Rochester is not the most important aspect of your life!" cried Mrs. Darcy from the sofa.

"He could be, if he were to propose!" Mirabella exclaimed.

"Bella, dearest, you have plenty of time before you are to reach a spinster status," said Mr. Darcy.

"Oh, I must marry! I do not wish to end up like dear Aunt Caroline!" Mirabella exclaimed worriedly. Miss Caroline Bingley was engaged to be married at the age of thirty, but her fiance had passed unexpectedly from being thrown from his horse and breaking his neck. Miss Bingley was forced into mourning, as was proper, and currently, Miss Bingley could not catch another husband and was living out her days as a spinster.

"Your dear Aunt Caroline spent most of her days chasing after my Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Darcy, not lifting her gaze from her book. She jumped slightly when she felt her husband's hands on the side of her head gently fingering her hair. Elizabeth lifted her head and met his light blue gaze and he pressed his lips to her brow.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Mirabella," said Mr. Darcy, turning to his youngest daughter. "Do not chase after one man. Let that one man chase after you."

"But I love Mr. Rochester..." said Mirabella, sitting in a chair and crossing her arms across her chest.

"And I love Mr. Scott," said Rosalind, a copy of _Waverly _by Sir Walter Scott in hand.

"Mr. Scott is recently deceased and an author. And not a good one!" Mirabella exclaimed.

"That is quite a harsh judgement, seeing as how you have never picked up a single one of his novels," said Rosalind.

"Girls, cease your prattling! It is no use arguing over such a topic when one is superior in the art of young men and the other superior in the art of famous authors," said Mrs. Darcy.

"Famous authors are usually married or deceased, Rosalind," said Mirabella.

"Mr. Rochester, I hear, is due to be engaged to a woman out of the country," said Rosalind, and Mirabella gasped.

"No... No, he cannot! Sarah!" Mirabella raced out of the parlor as Rosalind laughed in her wake.

"Why, it is only a rumor! I highly doubt it to be true," said Rosalind, taking a seat in a nearby armchair.

"Was there a proposal today, Fitzwilliam?" Mrs. Darcy asked her husband.

"No, my love, there was not. Mr. Bingley has yet to propose," Mr. Darcy replied.

"Mr. Bingley will _not _propose," said Rosalind. "He has his eyes set on another!"

"She claims that Mr. Bingley has his sights set on Miss Apsley," said Mr. Darcy to his wife.

"Miss Apsley? That horribly unhandsome thing?" asked Mrs. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy laughed. "Rosie, dearest, he clearly has his sights set for you!"

"He does not! Believe me, I would know if it were so," said Rosalind, standing. "Excuse me. I must seek Aveline." She left, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Darcy alone chatting about the 'unhandsome' Miss Apsley.

* * *

About a fortnight later, Sarah and Mirabella were walking back to Pemberley from town when it started to thunder overhead. Miss Sarah and Miss Mirabella were concerned about catching an illness, so Mirabella suggested a shortcut through the hills. As they made their way down the hill, it began to pour, and Sarah slipped and tumbled down the hill.

"Sarah!" cried Mirabella, and she tried to run down the hill after her sister. She caught a dark blur out of the corner of her eye and saw, ahead of her, a young gentleman racing down the hill and stopping beside Sarah. Mirabella stopped and watched the scene before her as the gentleman rushed to Sarah's side.

"Miss, are you hurt?" he asked Miss Sarah, and Miss Sarah turned her gaze up to his, letting out a gasp. He was a rather handsome man with bright blue eyes and red curly hair. He wore a pair of glasses on his face, but it was no turn off for Miss Sarah. She was lost in his bright blue gaze. "Er... Miss?"

"Oh, forgive me! No, I am quite all right. Just a bit shaken, that's all," said Sarah, blushing. The young gentleman took a step back.

"I know it improper, but I must ask for your name," said the young gentleman. It was proper for the young gentleman to ask her parents for an introduction, but as they seemed not to be around, he felt he must ask.

"I can give the introduction!" Mirabella exclaimed out of no where. "This is my sister, Miss Sarah Darcy."

"And this is my sister, Miss Mirabella Darcy," said Sarah, blushing at her sister's interference.

"It is a pleasure, Miss Sarah and Miss Mirabella. I am Andrew Brighton, and up there on the path is my elder brother, Alexander Brighton," said young Mr. Brighton with a smile. Mirabella looked up to the path and waved.

"Hello, Mr. Brighton!" she called, and the elder Mr. Brighton waved back to her rather shyly from his horse, his brother's beside him.

"May we escort you to your home, then?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"Dare I ask, do you know where Pemberley is located?" asked Mirabella as Sarah blushed from her sister's shocking behavior.

"I do not, Miss Mirabella. Alexander and I have just inherited our recently deceased uncle's estate. Might you and Miss Sarah lead my brother and me?" asked young Mr. Brighton, and Mirabella nodded, taking young Mr. Brighton's offered arm. He offered the other to Miss Sarah, who hesitantly took it. Miss Mirabella was aided to climb onto the elder Mr. Brighton's horse (the elder Mr. Brighton had a rather similar look to the young Mr. Brighton, but he did not possess glasses and his eyes were grey) and Miss Sarah was aided onto young Mr. Brighton's horse. "Now, then. Onto Pemberley!"

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy heavily thanked the Mr. Brightons for bringing their youngest daughters home, and cheerful young Mr. Brighton engaged himself into conversation with the Darcys. The elder Mr. Brighton, however, remained silent, his gaze often switching between his younger brother and the floor. When Miss Rosalind entered to inquire of the events her sisters had gone through, her eyes fell on the elder Mr. Brighton. He met her gaze, but quickly looked away. Mrs. Darcy noticed his gaze follow Miss Rosalind as she exited the room after receiving the information she had inquired of. She found that the elder Mr. Brighton was rather reminiscent of her own Mr. Darcy.


	3. Chapter 3

Both Mr. Brightons called often on the Darcys, which made Mrs. Darcy happy but not so much Mr. Darcy. He was quite unhappy at the thought of him having to give up his youngest daughter to young Mr. Brighton as his wife seemed to think, and he commenced in frightening young Mr. Brighton off. However, Mr. Darcy found that Mrs. Darcy's observation of the elder Mr. Brighton was correct; How could he frighten off young Mr. Brighton if he were so used to a similar attitude from his elder brother? Mr. Darcy had scarcely even heard the elder Mr. Brighton speak. He failed to notice Mrs. Darcy's other observation, however, of the elder Mr. Brighton seeming to notice Miss Rosalind.

A week after the Mr. Brightons meeting the Miss Darcys in the rain, Mr. Barnesly met the two young men on the steps of Pemberley. Another rainy day it was and the three young men were soaked. They all seemed to be rather well acquainted, as young Mr. Brighton joyously greeted Mr. Barnesly and the elder Mr. Brighton remained silent, his grey eyes stalking his every mood. Mr. Barnesly twitched uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Tell me, Mr. Barnesly, what brings you to Pemberley?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"Miss Darcy, and I assume another Miss Darcy attracts you?" said Mr. Barnesly.

"Yes," said young Mr. Brighton with a smile. "Miss Sarah Darcy. She is quite beautiful, but her father is quite frightening sometimes."

"I have seen that side of him. Reminds you of Alex a bit?" asked Mr. Barnesly, and young Mr. Brighton let out a laugh.

"Yes! I daresay he does, do you not agree, Alex?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"I could not know, Andrew," said the elder Mr. Brighton in a deep baritone.

"Come now, Alex, you must pay attention to the father of the girl you have your eyes on!" exclaimed the younger Mr. Brighton.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked the elder Mr. Brighton, and his younger brother looked to Mr. Barnesly with a laugh.

"He does not know! You shall know soon enough, Alexander," said the younger Mr. Brighton as the three gentlemen were led inside.

"I am happy to see Miss Darcy today," said Mr. Barnesly. "I have brought her another book that I believe her to enjoy!"

"Which Miss Darcy, dare I ask?" asked the elder Mr. Brighton.

"Miss Aveline!" exclaimed Mr. Barnesly. "It is not she you have eyes for, is it?"

"Most certainly not," said Mr. Brighton, letting out a mental sigh of relief. The three gentlemen were led to the parlor as the doorman entered.

"A Mr. Brighton, a Mr. Brighton and a Mr. Barnesly," he said, and the three gentlemen entered as the five of the six Darcys inside stood. The three gentlemen bowed and were met by a curtsy from Miss Rosalind, Miss Aveline, Miss Sarah and Mrs. Darcy and a bow from Mr. Darcy. The sixth Darcy, young William, remained seated.

"Fitzwilliam. You are to stand and bow whenever a guest enters the room," said Mr. Darcy to his son, and young William stood and bowed lower than he should have.

"Papa, can I go and play with Edward now?" asked young William.

"Only if he is up to it. If he is not, then you are to leave him alone," said Mr. Darcy, and young William ran off to join his brother in the nursery.

"Mr. Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you, your wife and your daughters again!" young Mr. Brighton exclaimed cheerfully.

"And you, Mr. Brighton. Gentlemen, do sit down," said Mr. Darcy, and two of the three gentlemen took seats as the ladies sat down again. The elder Mr. Brighton remained standing, and Mr. Darcy found his company slightly threatening. "Mr. Brighton, do you wish to be seated?"

"I am quite well, Mr. Darcy," said the elder Mr. Brighton.

"Come now, Alex! You must take a seat! It is Mr. Darcy's wish," said his younger brother.

"If Mr. Darcy wishes me to be seated, then I shall if he is to say so, but if not, then I am quite well standing," replied the elder Mr. Brighton.

"You are like a shadow, Alex! That is all you are! Standing around in such a threatening manner," said young Mr. Brighton to his brother.

"Brandy, gentlemen?" asked Mr. Darcy, and all three complied. Aveline leaned over to her elder sister.

"Rosie, I have counted the amount of times that the elder Mr. Brighton has looked in your direction," she said in a whisper.

"Perhaps he is looking at you, Ava, as Mr. Barnesly has been doing," whispered Rosalind to her sister.

"I know of Mr. Barnesly, but Mr. Brighton is not looking in my direction. That I can guarantee you," said Aveline in return.

"I am disinterested in him. He seems quite rude and arrogant," whispered Rosalind.

"Of course you are," said Aveline.

"How many times has he looked over?"

"I thought you were disinterested."

"Any such number brings curiosity to my ears. Now how many?"

"Eleven. I counted three more just now." Rosalind's head whipped up and she met the eyes of the elder Mr. Brighton. She felt the blush creeping to her cheeks and looked down at her hands in her lap. "You are not interested?"

"He has not caught my attention..."

"I daresay he has."

"He has not. If he has, then I shall eat my hat." She glanced up again and saw that Mr. Brighton's eyes were still on her. He was scrutinizing her, it seemed, and she returned his cold gaze with an even colder one. Aveline had noticed a blush creep onto her sister's face.

"I believe you shall eat your hat when you are next wearing one."

"Hush now!" The women remained silent while the men chatted, and about an hour into their visit, Miss Mirabella bounded into the room.

"He is back! He has returned! My Mr. Rochester has returned! Oh, Papa! We must hold a ball!" she cried joyously.

"Mirabella! Mind your behavior!" exclaimed Mrs. Darcy.

"Oh, Mama, it is not like we have-" Mirabella stopped and blushed when she noticed the three gentlemen in the room. "Oh... I do beg your forgiveness, sirs!"

"Forgiveness granted!" said young Mr. Brighton cheerfully, and he stood. "I think a ball is a lovely idea! Perhaps we ought to hold it at Sommerton!"

"Sommerton? Is that not the home of the Apsleys?" asked Mrs. Darcy.

"Alex and I have inherited the estate from our recently deceased uncle!" said young Mr. Brighton.

"And you have inherited it together?" asked Mr. Darcy.

"Alex and I have always been inseperable," said young Mr. Brighton. "The estate is his, but we choose to share it along with our unmarried cousins."

"Yes, I recall the Miss Apsleys are yet to be married," said Rosalind.

"The youngest is lately engaged," said the elder Mr. Brighton. "She has become engaged to a Mr. Rochester."

"Oh, no!" Mirabella squealed, collapsing into a chair.

"A Mr. Alonzo Rochester," said young Mr. Brighton.

"Isn't your Mr. Rochester a Mr. Nathaniel Rochester, Bella?" asked Rosalind, standing. Mirabella wiped her face with the elder Mr. Brighton's offered handkerchief.

"Why, yes... Yes, he is... Oh, how wonderful of him not to be engaged to any of the Miss Apsleys!" cried Mirabella with joy. "I must write to Miss Sally Apsley with my congratulations!" Mirabella quickly took her leave. Mrs. Darcy was blushing from embarrassment.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for my youngest daughter," she said.

"There has been no offense," said Mr. Barnesly, having been staring at Aveline happily the entire time and having been startled by Mirabella's entrance.

"Miss Sally Apsley engaged to Mr. Rochester... Why, I daresay I never thought it possible," said Rosalind.

"She had declared in the past to marry her wealthiest suitor," said the elder Mr. Brighton.

"Oh, yes, but I know Miss Apsley well. We came out into society together at the age of sixteen," said Rosalind. "I know Miss Apsley's wealthiest suitor was not indeed Mr. Rochester. In fact, she had informed me that she was to marry her eldest cousin, which I believe to be you, Mr. Brighton."

"It was spoken of, but never taken into account," said Mr. Brighton. "I had no desire to marry Miss Apsley. She did not possess any traits appealing to my taste. I could not spend the rest of my life at her side."

"Yes, Miss Apsley has been known for her uncivil ways, has she not, Aveline?" Rosalind asked her sister. Miss Sally Apsley had always abused Miss Aveline senselessly until Mr. Darcy had to take it up with the late Mr. Apsley personally. Aveline blushed and nodded.

"Miss Alma Apsley, then, is still not engaged?" asked Miss Sarah from her armchair.

"It is said that she is to soon be engaged to a Mr. Bingley," said young Mr. Brighton.

"See that, Papa? And you thought I was kidding you," Rosalind said to her father.

"I see that I have been wrong," said Mr. Darcy.

"I must return to Sommerton. I have some engagements that must be taken care of regarding the estate," said the elder Mr. Brighton.

"Alexander, can you not put them off a few minutes longer?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"I cannot," said the elder. "Good day to you all. Mr. Darcy, it has been my pleasure to be in your presence." He bowed to the room, the room returning his gesture, and he locked eyes with Miss Rosalind before taking his leave.

"What a shame that Alexander cannot stay longer," said young Mr. Brighton.

"It is less thick in here with him gone, Andrew. Now, you mentioned a ball at Sommerton?" asked Mr. Barnesly, and the rest of the room engaged in conversation of such an upcoming ball. Miss Rosalind, on the other hand, was quite disturbed. The elder Mr. Brighton's gaze had disrupted her thoughts and she could no longer concentrate. Was Miss Aveline correct when she counted Mr. Brighton looking her way eleven times? Had that number gone up? What was it about this Mr. Alexander Brighton that was so different than Mr. Joshua Bingley or Mr. Don Eccleston or any of the other young gentlemen she had known growing up? Exactly what was it about the new owner of Sommerton that disrupted Miss Rosalind so?


	4. Chapter 4

As it turned out, Sommerton was not quite prepared for a ball, so the ball was to be held at Pemberley. Many of the families in the surrounding area (the Ecclestons, the Rawlings, the Crawleys and the Bainbridges, to name a few) were out of the country for the summer and fall, so it was decided to be held early in December, when it was predicted that many of the families would return. As for the Darcys, the Bingleys, the Barneslys, the Rochesters and the Brightons/Aspleys, the summer would be a rather long and bland one. For three months that year, the three eldest Darcy girls stayed with their aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, up north in Northumberland, as Mr. Wilkes preferred not to live too far from Scotland. Upon their return that November, they discovered that the elder Mr. Brighton was out of the country and was probably not to attend the ball.

When the time for the ball finally came, Derbyshire was populated with many of the families that had left for the summer and lacking those that had only come to stay for the summer. The Bingleys stayed for the purpose of the ball and were due to leave shortly before Christmas. The four Darcy girls prepared for the ball, Miss Mirabella sporting a bright pink dress, Miss Sarah sporting a cream-colored dress, Miss Aveline sporting a pale blue dress and Miss Rosalind sporting a white dress.

"I cannot wait to dance with Mr. Rochester tonight! Mama says that we will have more waltzes than ever at this ball!" Mirabella exclaimed with joy.

"Is that so she and Papa can dance them?" said Rosalind, and her two other sisters laughed.

"They have become immensely popular!" exclaimed Aveline. "Mama always said how much she remembered wishing to dance a waltz with Papa at the Netherfield ball, but there was no waltz and she danced a line with him!"

"Mama can sometimes be selfish... Always thinking of Papa and dancing a waltz with him," said Rosalind with a laugh as her sister did her hair.

"Imagine their first waltz," said Mirabella. "I bet it was so romantic!"

"Oh, yes, I daresay it was," said Mrs. Darcy from the door. Mirabella blushed and turned away from her mother as her elder sisters laughed. "And we do intend on dancing every waltz tonight. I know it is selfish of me, as gentlemen are scarce, but frankly, Mr. Darcy can only dance with me or he shall not receive what was promised to him with our marriage."

"Is that a threat, Mrs. Darcy?" said Mr. Darcy from behind his wife, and it was her turn to blush as her daughters laughed yet again. "It is not that you will not allow me to dance with other women, my love. It is the fact that I do not _wish_ to dance with any other women. Now come, my darling one, it is your duty to act as hostess." Mrs. Darcy took her husband's offered arm.

"Girls, you must hurry! I thought I saw the Barnesly carriage pull up," she said as her husband led her out of the room. Aveline blushed and stood.

"Perhaps I shall go and greet Mr. Barnesly," she said, and she left the room as six Barneslys entered it. Mr. Orville Barnesly smiled as he greeted Miss Aveline and kissed her hand.

"Good evening, Miss Darcy. You look wonderful this evening," he said to her as she blushed.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Barnesly. You look quite handsome yourself," said Aveline as she and Mr. Barnesly left the party.

"Mr. and Mrs. Barnesly, it is a pleasure," said Mr. Darcy, bowing to the older couple.

"It is wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Darcy! I daresay it has been far too long since we have last seen each other!" said Mrs. Barnesly.

"I have found it hard to call, but I shall try and call when I can," said Mrs. Darcy, and Mr. and Mrs. Barnesly entered the ballroom. Miss Bessie Barnesly, Miss Sophia Barnesly and Mr. Truman Barnesly also greeted the Darcys before entering the ballroom after their parents. Shortly after, the Rochesters arrived, and Mirabella greeted Mr. Nathaniel Rochester happily and dragged him into the ballroom. Mr. Alonzo Rochester and his fiancee, Miss Sally Apsley, expressed their joy of being invited to the ball and were congratulated on their engagement before entering the ballroom. Miss Anastasia Rochester greeted the Darcys warmly with her father, as her mother had passed in August, before entering the ballroom. The Darcys were then greeted by the Bingley family.

"I am amazed that you, Darcy, are the host of a ball!" said Mr. Bingley cheerfully to his friend.

"It is my wife's doing," said Mr. Darcy in response, and Mrs. Darcy only laughed.

"I daresay that Lizzie has quite changed Mr. Darcy, Charles," said Mrs. Bingley to her husband.

"Only for the better, Jane!" said Mrs. Darcy, taking her husband's arm and receiving a kiss on her cheek from him. Young Joshua Bingley appeared rather deep in thought and did not pay attention when he was greeted by Mr. Darcy. Miss Lucy Bingley pinched him and his head snapped up, noticing Miss Rosalind enter the room.

"Sarah wishes to know if Mr. Brighton has arrived yet," she said to her parents, knowing the elder Mr. Brighton was still out of the country.

"Not yet, Rosalind," said Mr. Darcy, and he looked at Mr. Bingley. "Are you to dance a number with my daughter this evening, Mr. Bingley?"

"Papa, do not pester him!" exclaimed Rosalind.

"I see no reason why Joshua cannot dance with Miss Darcy!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley, and Joshua and Rosalind exchanged a glance.

"Miss Darcy, would you mind?" asked Joshua.

"Oh, not at all," said Rosalind, a bit irritated at her father's and uncle's attempt at promoting a marriage between their eldest children. Joshua bowed and Rosalind curtsied,, then she returned to her younger sister to inform her that young Mr. Brighton still had not arrived.

"A marriage ought to be expected very shortly, Darcy!" said Mr. Bingley happily.

"A Darcy-Bingley union! Imagine it, Lizzie," said Mrs. Bingley to her sister.

"They shall be so happy together," said Mrs. Darcy.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, allow me to choose when I propose and who I propose to!" exclaimed Joshua, and he stormed off into the ballroom. Shortly after the arrival of the Bingleys, young Mr. Brighton arrived and was greeted by Sarah immediately. As he arrived, the first waltz was starting, and Mr. Brighton asked if Sarah would be his partner. Joshua Bingley had asked Miss Rosalind for the dance to settle both his father's mind and her father's, but the two of them felt rather uncomfortable.

"I apologize for my father's words," said Miss Rosalind.

"Rosalind, please, it is not your fault. It is I who should be begging for forgiveness," said Joshua.

"If our fathers could mind their own business, that would be wonderful. My mother advised me to be tempted into marriage only by the deepest love," said Rosalind.

"I wish for the same, but I do not think it possible for myself," said Joshua.

"Surely, it must. Is Miss Alma Apsley not appeasing enough for you?"

"Miss Apsley is indeed a handsome woman, but she is quite shy and quiet, so unlike her sister."

"I have always preferred Miss Alma over Miss Sally."

"As have I. I think her to be a fine wife."

"But you do not love her."

"No, I do not."

"Then why be tempted into such a marriage?" Joshua was silent for a moment, and then he let out a sigh.

"Miss Darcy, I must confide something into you that I fear you might detest me for..."

"What is it, Joshua?"

"Rosalind..." The music stopped as the waltz came to an end, and Joshua stepped away from his partner. "Excuse me, I feel that I need some air..." Joshua Bingley raced out of that ballroom before anyone noticed him leave, and Rosalind was left rather confused as to what could be troubling him so much.

Mr. Barnesly had just finished waltzing with Miss Aveline when he pulled her aside and said in a whisper, "May we go for a walk?"

"Allow me to ask my parents," said Aveline, but Mr. Barnesly stopped her.

"They will not allow it, Miss Aveline. I must speak with you alone," he said, and Aveline's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

"Oh... Yes, allow us to go for a short walk," she said, and she allowed Mr. Barnesly to lead her out of the ballroom. They did not go undetected, however; Mr. Darcy noticed his daughter and Mr. Barnesly were both missing and exited through the front door, finding footsteps in the snow. He followed them and noticed a young couple ahead of him, one wearing a light blue dress similar to that of his daughter's. In anger, he followed suit quietly.

"Miss Aveline, I must say that you have bewitched me... I can no longer control my feelings, and I have no desire," said Mr. Barnesly as they entered the woods.

"Oh, Mr. Barnesly..." said Aveline.

"Orville, if you will. It is my Christian name," said Mr. Barnesly.

"I do not feel that my father will be very fond of that," said Aveline with a blush.

"I do hope that he will allow me to ask for your hand in marriage," whispered Mr. Barnesly, stopping. Aveline gasped, her hands covering her mouth.

"Mr. Barnesly!" she exclaimed.

"Shh! My darling, someone will hear," whispered Mr. Barnesly, nearing Miss Aveline.

"Oh, Mr. Barnesly," said Aveline in a much quieter tone.

"Shall I accept that as a yes?" said Mr. Barnesly with a smile, and his eyes widened when he heard footsteps behind him. He quickly turned around and found that he was facing a man he had never seen before.

"Uncle!" cried Aveline, recognizing the man as her uncle, Mr. Wickham. "What brings you to Derbyshire?"

"Mrs. Wickham would not hush unless I brought her here," said Mr. Wickham, nearing the young couple. "Who is this gentleman? Your father will not like his nearness to you."

"This is Mr. Barnesly, Uncle... Mr. Barnesly, this is my uncle, Mr. Wickham," said Aveline.

"How do you do?" asked Mr. Barnesly, now several steps from Aveline. He bowed.

"Yes, how do you do..." said Mr. Wickham in a hushed tone, not returning the bow. He stood there quietly for a while, and then a second set of footsteps starting nearing the group. Slightly alarmed, Aveline did not notice her uncle nearing her, and she let out a scream when he launched himself onto her.

"Miss Aveline!" cried Mr. Barnesly and he attempted to wrestle Mr. Wickham off of Miss Aveline. A second set of hands grabbed at Mr. Wickham and Mr. Barnesly found himself facing Mr. Darcy. "Mr. Darcy, sir!"

"I shall have a word with you after I deal with this man," said Mr. Darcy angrily, and he threw Mr. Wickham onto the ground. Mr. Wickham stood and brought out his gun, startling the unarmed Mr. Darcy and causing Miss Aveline to scream. The elder Mr. Brighton, on his way up to Pemberley on his horse after a long day of riding, halted when he heard Miss Aveline's screams, and he leapt off of his horse as she darted past him running frantically back to the house. Mr. Brighton raced into the woods, his own gun in his hand, and two gunshots went off.


	5. Chapter 5

Miss Rosalind was in search of Joshua Bingley still when she heard her father's voice in the hall. He sounded rather hurried and as if he were supporting something heavy, and Rosalind rushed out to see what was troubling him. In the hall, she found the elder Mr. Brighton and Mr. Darcy supporting a weak and wounded Mr. Barnesly, and she let out a gasp. "Papa! What's happened?" she cried.

"Lead Mr. Brighton to my library and we shall talk," said Mr. Darcy, shifting Mr. Barnesly over to Mr. Brighton. "I must have a word with Mr. Bingley and your mother." He disappeared and Rosalind, rather confused, watched him leave.

"Miss Darcy, if you'll please," said Mr. Brighton, his deep voice startling Miss Rosalind.

"Yes, of course. Follow me," she said, and she rushed up the stairs, aiding Mr. Brighton with Mr. Barnesly. She led him into the library and closed the door behind him as Mr. Brighton set Mr. Barnesly down on the sofa. "What has happened?"

"I cannot relate the details to you until Mr. Darcy returns," said Mr. Brighton, rushing to the decanter to pour a glass of brandy for Mr. Baresly.

"Has my sister seen?" asked Miss Rosalind.

"She ran towards the home in a panic. I saw her when I arrived," said Mr. Brighton, raising the glass to Mr. Barnesly's lips.

"You tell me immediately what has happened! I shall not rest easy until I know what has happened!" cried Rosalind.

"Rosalind, my dear, I shall relate the entire story to you shortly," said Mr. Darcy as he entered the library and approached his daughter. "Your aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Wickham have arrived."

"I did not see either," said Rosalind.

"Your uncle did not enter this house," said Mr. Darcy, and he knelt down beside Mr. Barnesly. "Mr. Barnesly, are you with us?" A weak groan escaped Mr. Barnesly's lips. "Lizzie, my dearest, send for a doctor."

"Of course, Fitzwilliam," said Mrs. Darcy, and she rushed out of the room.

"What has happened?" Mr. Bingley asked, closing the door after Mrs. Darcy.

"There has been a murder here at Pemberley," said Mr. Darcy, standing. Rosalind gasped.

"Who has been murdered?" she asked.

"Mr. Wickham has, Miss," said Mr. Brighton.

"Who killed him?" asked Rosalind.

"All three of you are suspects!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley. "All three of you were there and all three of you were not present among the guests."

"Nor was Joshua," said Rosalind, her eyes widened with worry.

"My son was not present?" asked Mr. Bingley, also worried. Rosalind shook her head.

"Mr. Bingley was not present when the shooting took place," said Mr. Brighton. Mr. Bingley let out a sigh of relief.

"Who shot Mr. Wickham then?" asked Mr. Bingley, and the room was silent. "You are not saying he shot himself, are you? Who shot him?" Still no answer was given.

"Rosalind, go and check on your sister," said Mr. Darcy.

"Not until I know which of you shot Mr. Wickham!" Rosalind exclaimed.

"Rosalind, do as you are told!" Mr. Darcy exclaimed, and Rosalind sent a glare her father's way before leaving. She stormed to her sister's bedchamber, where she was sitting on the bed in tears.

"Ava, are you all right?" she asked her sister.

"No! I am not!" cried Aveline. "Where is Mr. Barnesly? I heard the gunshots!"

"He is fine, Ava," said Rosalind, sitting beside her sister. "What had happened? Can you remember?"

"It involved our uncle, Mr. Wickham!"

"Yes, I was informed... What happened?"

"He... He tried to harm me! He tried to compromise me! I ran before I saw anything happen, but I heard two gunshots! Is Mr. Barnesly hurt? Do not lie to me!"

"He has been wounded, but he will live."

"Are you certain?"

"I stole one of Mr. Proctor's medical books as a child and remembered something about gunshot wounds. His is not serious." Mr. Proctor was the town doctor.

"Oh, my poor Mr. Barnesly... What happened to Mr. Wickham?"

"He lies dead in the forest."

"He is dead? Who killed him?"

"That I do not know, but there are three possible shooters."

"Who?"

"Papa, Mr. Barnesly and the elder Mr. Brighton."

"Oh, dear! How can it only be them? Can it not be another?" Rosalind shook her head. "One of them will hang and I am the reason!"

"No, you are not! There is no fault that can be found in you! You could not have known he would be there!"

"I wish to be alone, Rosalind! Please!" Rosalind let out a sigh and went to leave Aveline's bedchamber, but froze when she heard the voices of her parents in the corridor.

"Fitzwilliam, Mr. Proctor has been sent for," said Mrs. Darcy, her footsteps echoing in the hall and then stopping. Rosalind watched them in the mirror at the end of the hall.

"Good. Inform Mrs. Hutchins that we need two bedchambers set up for two guests," said Mr. Darcy, nearing his wife.

"Are Mr. Brighton and Mr. Barnesly to stay?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Fitzwilliam, will everything be all right?"

"I do not know."

"You are a suspect... You were there. They know of your disliking of Mr. Wickham. Fitzwilliam, they will hang you."

"They have no evidence against me. I was unarmed."

"But were those two gentlemen armed?"

"Yes."

"Fitzwilliam, you must consider that you could have easily taken one of their weapons..."

"I understand, Elizabeth."

"Tell me, Fitzwilliam... Who shot Mr. Wickham?"

"That I cannot relate to you currently, my dear." He kissed her hands. "Please inform Mrs. Hutchins about our guests. I must settle the minds of our guests."

"Most certainly." She raised herself on her toes and kissed Mr. Darcy's face before rushing off to Mrs. Hutchins's quarters and Mr. Darcy disappeared down the stairs.

* * *

Rosalind found it difficult to sleep that evening. She could not help but to wander the empty and quiet house and soon, she found herself wandering into the library, where both Mr. Brightons could be found. They did not detect Rosalind's entrance and she hid in a dark corner as they spoke. "Alexander, you must tell me! Who was it that killed this man?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"Andrew, I cannot say. Mr. Darcy has sworn me into secrecy," said the elder.

"But I am your brother!"

"I know. I was there for your birth."

"Why can you not tell me?"

"Mr. Darcy does not want anyone beyond himself, Mr. Barnesly and myself to know."

"Damn him! I must know the fate of my brother!"

"My fate has yet to be decided."

"Is Miss Aveline to know, at least?"

"No. Mr. Barnesly has been advised not to inform her."

"What about Miss Rosalind."

"What about her?"

"Is she to know?"

"No."

"What brought you here tonight, Alex? I have never known you to come to a ball alone. I thought you would have gone straight to Sommerton."

"Something prompted me here."

"It was Miss Rosalind, wasn't it? I saw the way you looked at her." The elder was silent for a moment.

"To some degree, perhaps." Rosalind felt her stomach drop and her heart began to pound so loudly that she feared the Mr. Brightons would hear it.

"I thought you were not one to fall in love."

"I am not in love with Miss Rosalind."

"Presently."

"Forgive me?"

"You are not in love with Miss Rosalind presently."

"I am not in love with Miss Rosalind period."

"I know that not to be true... Only because I feel I do not know you anymore, Alex. You have changed."

"And you attribute this change to Miss Rosalind?"

"Why, yes, I... Miss Rosalind!" The elder Mr. Brighton whipped around as Miss Rosalind darted out of the room quickly and returned to her bedchamber, unable to believe what she had just heard. The fact that the elder Mr. Brighton knew that she had been present during his conversation with his brother uneased her as well, and she could not even begin to imagine what he was thinking of her now. She could not face him with the same face that she could before, and she could not help but feel a certain inexplicable sense of relief that Mr. Brighton was not indifferent to her.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days after Mr. Wickham's death, Mr. Barnesly finally regained consciousness and was currently seeing the Mr. Brightons in his bedchamber. He inquired after the health of Miss Aveline, but neither knew of her current state. Luckily for Mr. Barnesly, Miss Rosalind entered with a tray of tea for the three gentlemen. "Miss Darcy, how is your sister?" asked Mr. Barnesly.

"She has a fever, but she will recover," said Rosalind as she set up the tray. She did not glance in the elder Mr. Brighton's direction, but she knew his eyes were still on her.

"Oh, poor Miss Aveline! I must see her!" said Mr. Barnesly and he attempted to get up. The elder Mr. Brighton held a hand on his chest.

"You are not well enough for walking, Mr. Barnesly," he said to him, and Mr. Barnesly relaxed back onto the bed.

"When she recovers, I shall send her in," said Miss Rosalind, still setting up the tray of tea. The room was silent for a moment.

"Miss Darcy, have you slept well these past few days?" asked Mr. Brighton suddenly.

"Quite well, Mr. Brighton," said Miss Rosalind.

"My brother thought that he saw you in the library a couple of nights ago, but it must have been his imagination," said the elder Mr. Brighton.

"It must have been my imagination, Miss Darcy," said the young Mr. Brighton.

"Yes, it must have. Here is your tea. Excuse me," said Miss Darcy, curtsying to the three men. The elder Mr. Brighton, still standing, bowed to her as she left, his eyes following her form out of the room. When Rosalind returned to the library, she found two police officers conversing with her father. She could not help but to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Mr. Darcy, we are well aware of your past feud with Mr. Wickham," said one of the officers.

"I understand, sir. Mr. Wickham and I have managed to overcome our differences these past years," Mr. Darcy replied.

"No one in the country was surprised when they had heard that Mr. Wickham had been shot and you were present at his killing," said the other officer.

"I was unarmed at the time, sir," said Mr. Darcy calmly.

"And the other gentlemen present were. That has been related to us enough, sir. You must understand that anything could have happened in those woods and we have no way of knowing," said the first officer.

"Sir, it is perfectly clear that you are accusing me. Need I recount the fact that my daughter was beneath him when I arrived? Any action I played out was done purely in anger at his harming my daughter," said Mr. Darcy.

"Rosalind, what are you doing?" came Mrs. Darcy's whispered voice.

"The police think Papa shot Mr. Wickham!" whispered Rosalind.

"Oh, dear, it cannot be... Mr. Darcy would not shoot Mr. Wickham! I know he would not!" said Mrs. Darcy. The two officers emerged from the library.

"Excuse us, ladies," said one of them, and they took their leave. Mrs. Darcy rushed into the library.

"Fitzwilliam, what were those officers doing here?" she asked her husband, her expression displaying a large amount of worry.

"Do not worry, Lizzie. Please allow me to be alone," said Mr. Darcy.

"Fitzwilliam, you cannot allow them to hang you. You are innocent!" cried Mrs. Darcy.

"Elizabeth, I wish to be alone!" exclaimed Mr. Darcy, and Mrs. Darcy took a step back.

"Very well... Keep me worried if you wish," she said, and she left the library hurriedly.

* * *

Another week passed and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were rarely seen even in the same room. Aveline was out of bed and constantly in Mr. Barnesly's bedchamber and the young Mr. Brighton nearly ignored Sarah due to his concern for his brother. Rosalind barely heard from Joshua Bingley at all and started to worry that something were bothering him. It was Mirabella who suggested that he had fallen in love with Rosalind, and Rosalind started to worry for Joshua's sake.

"He does not love me and I do not love him," said Rosalind to her sister.

"I know you don't love him," said Mirabella. "You love Mr. Brighton."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Rosalind, rather surprised at her sister's silly observation.

"Yes, you do! You love Mr. Brighton and you cannot deny it! You act indifferent, but I see the way you twitch under his gaze!"

"I do not twitch under Mr. Brighton's gaze. He has no heart for me. I heard him say so himself that he did not love me."

"But you love him."

"I do not love Mr. Brighton.

"Of course you do not. Sarah loves Mr. Brighton."

"I do not love Mr. _Alexander _Brighton."

"Then can I have him?"

"What happened to your Mr. Rochester?"

"He is not nearly as handsome as Mr. Brighton!"

"He has no sights for you, either."

"Why do you care? You do not love him."

"I must go and see if Papa needs me. He has called me into his library several times today only to not inform me of whatever it was he wished to say."

"I heard Mr. Brighton was being acquitted for the murder of our uncle."

"I would have heard from Papa and I have not, so I do not trust your words." She left her sister before she could get another word out and bumped into the elder Mr. Brighton in the corridor. "Forgive me, sir!"

"It is I who should be forgiven," said Mr. Brighton.

"What brings you in this corridor? Dare I ask that you have taken your turn in eavesdropping on my conversation with my sister?" asked Rosalind in a teasing manner.

"No, of course not. Miss Darcy, I must tell you something..." said Mr. Brighton, nervously wringing his hands.

"What is it, Mr. Brighton?" asked Rosalind, her teasing manner dropped.

"Er... Forgive me," said Mr. Brighton, and he quickly left.

"And you said he does not love you," said Mirabella from behind Rosalind, and she disappeared in pursue of Sarah.

* * *

That same evening, Mrs. Darcy found herself unable to sleep. She was quite unused to sleeping in a different room than her husband, but he seemed to have lost interest in her. She got up and went into the library to find a book to read in hopes that it would put her to sleep, but she was surprised to find herself not alone in the library. She found her husband at his desk, his face in his hands and oblivious to her entrance into the library. She quietly approached him, trying not to startle him.

"I know you are there, Mrs. Darcy," he said to her, and she stopped.

"What are you doing up so late, Mr. Darcy?" she asked her husband.

"The same as you, I suppose," said Mr. Darcy, lifting his head to look at her. "I am struggling, and I can bare it no longer."

"Over what?"

"It seems to me that you regret our match, Mrs. Darcy." Mrs. Darcy's eyes widened and she could not speak. "Frankly to say, Elizabeth, you are now stuck with me. I shall not grant you the divorce you seem to wish for." He stood and approached her, and Mrs. Darcy was so in shock that she could not respond. "You have been caught, Elizabeth. It angers me to think that you no longer want me. Did you ever want me, or was it my wealth and title that you were after?"

"Mr. Darcy!"

"I should have known. I should not have been so foolish twenty years ago. You would have been a wonderful actress, Mrs. Darcy, but it is far too late now. I shall not give you up for anything in the world, especially if it is what you wish."

"Mr. Darcy, you have gone mad! It has only been such a short while since this entire event started and you have already gone mad!"

"No, I have finally gained my senses back."

"How dare you accuse me of not loving you, Fitzwilliam? I could never love another and I do not love you for your wealth and title! If I did, I could not have pulled it off!"

"Well, you most certainly have, Elizabeth. As I have said, you are not being granted the divorce you seek."

"I do not seek a divorce! What has gone wrong with you? You have changed so much!"

"How could I have not seen your wicked ways?"

"Fitzwilliam, I love you!"

"And you expect me to believe that after the way I have seen you treat me?"

"My god, you have gone mad! I should have never left my bedchamber!" Mrs. Darcy quickly made an attempt to leave the library, but Mr. Darcy stopped her.

"You are not leaving me yet. Not in that manner."

"Mr. Darcy, please!"

"You think I can take it so lightly after living with you and loving you for twenty years?"

"Are you saying you no longer love me?" The pain was evident in Mrs. Darcy's eyes, but Mr. Darcy did not see them through his madness.

"It is _you _who no longer loves _me_! You never loved me and that is evident!"

"Fitzwilliam, I have loved you as you have me these last twenty years and I want the rest of our lives to be spent in the same manner!"

"All my love is marital duties to you. I shall show you how much damage you have done me!" He picked her up, despite her protests, and carried her fighting him through the hall and into his bedchamber. After he had done what it was he had wanted to do, he got up and dressed, absolutely humiliated at himself. He could not believe what the entirety of Mr. Wickham's murder has done him and he could not face his wife. He rushed out of the bedchamber as Mrs. Darcy hurried to dress to follow him.

"Fitzwilliam, wait for me!" she cried.

"No!" he shouted, and he ran through the front door and out into the snow. Exposed in her nightgown, she ran after him, eventually stopping him and holding his sobbing form to her breast. "I have wronged you, my love! How could you treat me with such tenderness?"

"It is not your fault, my Fitzwilliam... Everything has caused you to turn to madness! I can only assume that this madness has come from shooting Mr. Wickham," said Elizabeth as she comforted her husband.

"My Lizzie, I cannot rest until I inform you who it was that committed this murder," he said, picking up his head and looking at her.

"It was not you?"

"No! I was unarmed and I did not grab either Mr. Barnesly's or Mr. Brighton's weapon!"

"Who was it then?" Rosalind, unable to sleep, sat by her on her windowsill and saw the forms of her mother and father silhouetted against the moonlight. She saw her father seemingly sobbing into her mother's chest and then watched as he picked his head up. A few moments later, she pulled him to her breast yet again and held him tightly. She watched as they continued this way for a few moments before he picked up his head and bestowed a passionate kiss on her lips, and then he lifted his wife and carried her back inside. Rosalind was certain that her father had informed her mother of who the murderer really was, and based on the way her mother took her father to her breast, she concluded that he had told her that he was the one who had shot Mr. Wickham.


	7. Chapter 7

The weather warmed significantly over the days following the chilly evening when Miss Rosalind watched - but did not hear - her father's confession to her mother. It warmed enough that Rosalind decided to take a short walk through the countryside. The snow had melted, but it was still cloudy overhead. It was warm enough to the point that any precipitation would come down as rain instead of snow, so Rosalind hoped that she did not find herself caught in a rainstorm. As she walked, she was very surprised when she came across Joshua Bingley.

"Miss Rosalind!" he exclaimed.

"Joshua!" exclaimed Rosalind, hugging her cousin tightly. "Where have you been? Are you ill? Do tell me you are all right?"

"Yes, I am quite all right," said Joshua.

"You have been distressed?"

"Quite heavily, I daresay."

"What has been burdening your mind?"

"I fear that if I tell you, you shall detest me."

"I could never, Joshua. You know I could never." Joshua was silent for a moment.

"I am in love, Rosalind." Rosalind's eyes widened and she feared that Mirabella had been right when she said that Joshua was in love with her.

"Joshua..."

"Not you! No, I know you do not love me and I do not love you in the way that you are thinking." She let out a small sigh of relief. "No, I love another... But my father shall not approve and neither shall my mother. I cannot disturb them, but if I do not confide in someone, then I shall go mad. I do not wish to lose a friend in you, Rosalind."

"Oh... Well, who is the lucky lady then? Miss Alma Apsley?"

"No! Heavens to God, no, but I guess I shall have to ask for her hand..."

"Then who is it? Surely she cannot be so bad as to not deserve your father's approval."

"She will, for certain, but he will not." Rosalind's eyes widened when the realization dawned on her, and her hands covered her mouth.

"Joshua..."

"I knew you would detest me! Please, I beg of you to forgive me for shaming your presence."

"Joshua, I do not detest you! But how could you even possibly keep that a secret? Surely, your father will find out!"

"He will not if my partner can keep quiet."

"Who is he?"

"Miles Percival Clifford."

"I do not know of him."

"He is the son of the blacksmith in town."

"As I said, I do not know of him."

"I know, but he is a most trustworthy friend, as you are, my dear cousin." He kissed Rosalind's hand. "You must not tell your sisters. In fact, you must not tell anyone."

"I will not tell a soul."

"Bless your noble heart, Miss Rosalind Darcy! I have a true friend in you!" He kissed her brow. "I must return home now that I am no longer in distress. I shall see you soon if I can." He took his leave, and Rosalind stood there alone rather shocked. She would never dream of betraying Joshua Bingley's secret, but she was so unsure of the goodness of it. Would he not go to Hell and spend the rest of eternity burning for his choices? Rosalind had been raised on the Bible and she could not remember an exact word, phrase, psalm or section that condemned Joshua Bingley's actions. She would have to look into it, whenever the chance came.

* * *

Rosalind kept the news to herself, but it was evident that something had disturbed her. The elder Mr. Brighton noticed how distressed she appeared and wondered if her distress had to do with him. He had noticed how disturbed Miss Darcy appeared in his presence in the past and could not help but to disturb her thoughts as she stood on a balcony overlooking the raining skies over the grounds of Pemberley. He stepped lightly, but Rosalind still detected him and she let out a gasp when she saw him.

"Miss Darcy, it is pouring and you are wet. Please, come inside," he said to her.

"No, Mr. Brighton, I am quite well," said Rosalind, not meeting his eyes.

"Quite well is not very well, Miss Darcy. It is what my mother always said," said Mr. Brighton.

"You are getting just as wet as I. Perhaps you should take your own advice," said Rosalind.

"I do not care for my own well-being, Miss Darcy. Please, come inside."

"I am fine where I am."

"Miss Darcy."

"What is it?" She finally met her eyes and Mr. Brighton could see the utter confusion in them. He neared her, not even detecting his own movements.

"Miss Darcy..."

"Mr. Brighton, please..."

"Alexander. It is my name."

"I prefer to call you 'Mr. Brighton', sir."

"You are most certainly distressed... Might I ask what it is that disturbs you?"

"Nothing, sir. Nothing at all."

"Nothing? I am lost in the confusion in your eyes, Miss Darcy."

"It is none of your concern." She looked away and Mr. Brighton stepped closer.

"Miss Rosalind."

"Mr. Brighton, if you will please leave me to my thoughts."

"I cannot. I cannot be so civil any longer, and I do beg your forgiveness. I have been observing you frequently, and I cannot have helped but notice that you seem so distressed under my watchful eye. I must declare that I, too, am distressed in your presence and I wish to suffer no longer. Miss Darcy, I am declaring my love for you."

"What?" She looked at him, surprised by his closeness.

"Miss Rosalind Darcy, you have done something to me that no other woman has ever been able to do. You have cast some sort of spell on me and I declare that I have fallen in love with you. I ask you to please end my agony and accept my hand in marriage." Rosalind was silent, still comprehending exactly what it was that he had just said. Mr. Brighton took her silence as her pondering over the results of a marriage between them. "I can ask your father. I can be the one to inform your family if you do not wish to. Miss Rosalind, I do not wish you to be distressed.

"I am not distressed!" cried Rosalind, finally coming to a conclusion. "While I highly appreciate your affections for me and I apologize for the pain I have unconsciously caused you, I cannot accept your proposal."

"And why not?" asked Mr. Brighton, his voice raised in surprise and a bit of anger.

"It is the way you hold yourself. You are proud, arrogant and far too snobby for my taste. You hold your head higher than any man I have ever before seen and you have not the decency to let go of said snobbery."

"You are calling me 'snobby'? Dare I ask why you give me your answer with such incivility?"

"It was you who started the incivility in this conversation, Mr. Brighton. I am not accepting your proposal and that is my answer. Good day to you." She quickly left, leaving Mr. Brighton rather shocked and outraged at her answer.

* * *

"She will not have me!" exclaimed the elder Mr. Brighton to his brother later that evening. "I am appalled that she will not have me!"

"What exactly was it that she said, Alexander?" asked the younger Mr. Brighton.

"She said I was snobby! With quite a bit of incivility to her tongue!" exclaimed the elder Mr. Brighton.

"You do hold your head rather high, Alex."

"I beg your pardon? Are you siding with her or your brother?"

"I cannot lie to you, Alex! She is right! You are snobby indeed and I have known this for the nineteen years of my life that I have been in this world. If that is all that is keeping her away from you, then you must let go of this snobbery!"

"I cannot believe this. If I were not a possible suspect in the murder of this Mr. Wickham, than I could be gone and out of her hair by now! She could easily be rid of me and my 'snobbery'!"

"You can simply leave if you say that you did not do it! Alex, I know that you did not! What favors are you doing? You barely know Mr. Darcy and you and Mr. Barnesly have a rather bad history!"

"You do not know that I did not commit this murder."

"Then tell me that you did not!"

"I am not to say a word."

"Alex... Please, you must tell me!"

"It is getting late. I would like to rest. Goodnight, Andrew." The elder Mr. Brighton left his brother alone as he strode to his bedchamber. On his way up, he heard a horrendous cry erupt from Mr. Barnesly's bedchamber and he saw Miss Rosalind Darcy dart from the bedchamber across the hall and into it in a panic. Mr. Brighton burst in to find Mr. Barnesly trying to comfort a crying Aveline and Rosalind trying to usher her distressed sister out of the room. "Miss Aveline, please, come with me." He grabbed Miss Aveline around the midsection and dragged her out as Miss Rosalind held open the door, and as soon as she was free, Miss Aveline fled.

"It was Mr. Barnesly, wasn't it?" asked Rosalind, and Mr. Brighton was silent for a moment.

"He only wanted to protect her," he said.

"Dear God, poor Ava... She will blame herself! This is not her fault!" said Rosalind, and she raced after her troubled sister.

"Alexander!" cried Mr. Barnesly from his bedchamber, and Mr. Brighton entered it. "I am sorry... I could keep it no longer from her."

"The only wrath that you are to face is Mr. Darcy's once he discovers that you have told your little secret," said Mr. Brighton. "Goodnight, for now, Mr. Barnesly." He left and returned to his own bedchamber.


	8. Chapter 8

Mr. Darcy was not too happy to hear that Mr. Barnesly had made a confession. He had spent so many hours trying to configure a way to divert the attention from the case and send the police on a fake trail, but when Mr. Barnesly confessed and Miss Aveline had let out a cry, a servant had overheard Mr. Brighton's brief conversation with Miss Rosalind in the corridor, and the news spread quickly. It was now known by most that Mr. Barnesly was indeed Mr. Wickham's killer, and Mrs. Wickham almost left her bedchamber to strangle poor Mr. Barnesly when the news reached her. Miss Aveline remained in her bedchamber, unable to remove herself from it. Miss Rosalind was so worried that she had forgotten Mr. Brighton's snobby proposal, but she most certainly had not forgotten his snobbery. He made an attempt to speak to her a few times, but Miss Rosalind responded rather coldly every time. "I must ask you to leave me, Mr. Brighton. Good day," was her usual response, and it got to a point that Mr. Brighton could barely keep his own sanity.

"I must go," he said to his brother one day.

"Go? But why?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"Do not question me, Andrew. I must go," said the elder.

"But you cannot!" cried young Mr. Brighton.

"He can," said Mr. Darcy from the doorway. "He has distressed my daughter far enough and since Mr. Wickham's killer has revealed himself, he is welcome to leave."

"I had no intention of distressing Miss Darcy, sir. I mistook her mental struggle for something in favor of myself," said the elder Mr. Brighton. Mr. Darcy could not help but chuckle, with confused Mr. Brighton. "Sir?"

"I am reminded of my first proposal to Mrs. Darcy. I was very much like yourself, Mr. Brighton. I had my share of wealth and snobbery, but Mrs. Darcy's rejection of me prompted me to make that change," said Mr. Darcy.

"With all due respect, if Miss Darcy does not wish to have me, than I shall not force myself upon her. If she wishes to have me, I will allow her to come to me," said Mr. Brighton.

"I understand," said Mr. Darcy. "You have earned my respect, Mr. Brighton. Your adoration for my daughter, however, is distressing her and I cannot have that. I must ask you to make haste."

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Brighton with a bow, and as he took his first step to leave, Miss Rosalind burst into the room.

"Mr. Barnesly is gone!" she cried.

"Gone where?" asked young Mr. Brighton.

"I do not know, but he is gone! His horse is gone and his bed is empty! The servants alerted me!" said Miss Rosalind.

"I must go after him," said the elder Mr. Brighton.

"And how are you to know where he went?" demanded Miss Rosalind.

"I have known Mr. Barnesly for a very long time. I know him well. I know exactly where he has gone. Excuse me," said the elder Mr. Brighton, and he quickly took his leave.

"Oh, dear God, I hope he does not do something foolish," said the younger Mr. Brighton in regard to his brother.

"Is he known for foolish things?" asked Miss Rosalind, and Mr. Brighton nodded.

"Yes, indeed he is. He might be snobby, Miss Darcy, but he is very noble."

* * *

Mr. Brighton rode out to the jailhouse, where he was certain Mr. Barnesly was. He knew Mr. Barnesly would turn himself in out of guilt and he could not let that happen. He would convince the guards that Mr. Barnesly was not the killer even if it was the last thing he did. When he arrived, he heard Barnesly call out to him, "Alex! What the devil are you doing here?"

"You are doing no one any good by locking yourself up in here," said Mr. Brighton.

"But it was my fault! You must let me take the fall for my actions!" cried Mr. Barnesly.

"And allow you to destroy poor Miss Aveline Darcy?" asked Mr. Brighton.

"You want her to marry a killer?"

"You are not a killer."

"I am!"

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the guard that had heard the conversation.

"Yes. This noble man is innocent. He is trying to take the fall for another's actions. He is not Mr. Wickham's killer," said Mr. Brighton.

"And you know who is?" asked the guard.

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Brighton, and he pulled the guard aside.

* * *

The Darcys were very surprised when Mr. Barnesly was announced and entered the parlor, and Miss Aveline ran to him and embraced him happily. "Oh, Mr. Barnesly!" she exclaimed and Mr. Barnesly lightly returned her embrace. She pulled back, a concerned expression on her face. "Mr. Barnesly, whatever is the matter?"

"Where is Mr. Brighton?" asked Rosalind, standing.

"He took the fall. He chose to confess to a murder he did not commit," said Mr. Barnesly quietly.

"Damn him!" cried young Mr. Brighton, standing. "I must go and take his place."

"No, Andrew!" cried Miss Sarah, grabbing his hand and begging him with her eyes not to.

"Miss Sarah, he is my brother!" cried young Mr. Brighton.

"They will not accept your confession, Andrew. They know that you were not present when Mr. Wickham was killed," said Mr. Barnesly.

"Rosalind, are you all right?" said Mirabella, and everyone's attention turned to Miss Rosalind. As soon as Mr. Barnesly had said that the elder Mr. Brighton had confessed, she had paled and had been staring at the floor ever since. She was so surprised by the sudden jolt this news had caused her that she could not move.

"Rosalind," said Mr. Darcy, kneeling down beside her and trying to attract her attention. "Rosalind, my dearest one, are you all right?"

"He did it for me," whispered Miss Rosalind.

"Who did what for you, dear?" asked Mrs. Darcy.

"Mr. Brighton... He confessed for me..." Rosalind muttered, not moving.

"For you?" asked Mr. Barnesly. "It was my neck he saved." Rosalind lifted her head.

"I told him he was snobby... He knew he had to drop that snobbery if he wished to draw in my affections... He dropped it when he saw how concerned I was for my sister's sake and he confessed so he would hang and not you! Can you not see that?" she cried.

"My God, she's right," said Mr. Barnesly, looking down in shame. "It should be my neck at the end of that noose, not his! He should not have confessed just to make you all happy! How could he do this? I shall be wracked with guilt knowing I have murdered two men!"

"Why didn't you stop him?" demanded the younger Mr. Brighton.

"They removed me before I could have a say! We must stop him!" cried Mr. Barnesly.

"Where did Rosalind go?" asked Mirabella, and everyone turned to where Rosalind had been sitting only moments before.


End file.
